


You know how I feel

by OnlyZouzou



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Becho Breakup, Episode: s04e13 Praimfaya, F/M, Feelings, I MISS SEASON 1, I know it doesn't work like that, Praimfaya | Radiation Wave, S7 doesn't exists, The Anomaly - Freeform, Time Travel, i don't care
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24595549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyZouzou/pseuds/OnlyZouzou
Summary: Bellamy and Clarke use the anomaly stone to go after Octavia. They have no idea where or when that portal will send them.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 91
Kudos: 174





	1. Birds Flying High

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there, and thank you for joining. This fiction was born out of a question: Could the Bellamy we know now stand to be in the same room as the Bellamy he was when he first arrived on Earth?
> 
> I hope you'll like my answer.  
> The title of this fiction is inspired by the fabulous song Feeling Good, so will the chapter titles. I don't know how many chapters this fiction will have, probably about ten.
> 
> Also, I can't express how great my beta is, thank you, Lili!
> 
>   
> Zouzou

Bellamy didn't know what the hell had happened.

One moment he was in the great hall of the Prime’s Palace, discussing the complicated situation between Sanctum and their people, and how to make it possible for everyone to live peacefully and safely. The next, he was making it known that he wanted to withdraw from leadership and go searching for his sister. Now, most of his friends and family were shouting at him.

Spacekru refused to let him sacrifice himself for Bloodreina and was letting him know loudly. However, it was Echo's whispers by his side that resounded the most in his ears as she warned between two moments of silence that if he decided once again to abandon the people who were loyal to him to go and save one of those who were less loyal and had not long ago betrayed him, it would be over between them. 

At these words, a new piece of Bellamy's heart cracked. He was now certain that it was nearing the time when there would be nothing left of it. Its pieces were scattered in the winds, each of them forcibly ripped from his chest from the moment of his birth to today.

"I won't stand by and watch you put someone else before me again, Bellamy. Not when I need you here. I want to be the one you choose, the one for whom you can't let your reason rule your heart."

Echo fell silent and kept her brown eyes fixed in his, pleading. The part of his heart that had cracked broke, crumbled, and disappeared. The most painful thing was not the meaning of her words. It wasn't that she was right, it wasn't admitting what he already knew. No one was in a better place than he was to know that he didn't deserve Echo, because he knew deep down that his heart had never belonged to her in the first place. It had stopped belonging to Bellamy himself as soon as Clarke had put her palm on his chest and begged him to use not only his big heart but also his head.

_"I've got you for that,"_ he had answered back then, and wasn't that the equivalent of the declaration of the love he'd never been able to confess?

When Clarke had removed her fingers from his chest that day, she didn't know that she now held his heart in the palm of her hand.

That same heart, even though it had been shattered by the hardships he had suffered, was still beating wildly in his ears now, while Bellamy stood motionless, caught between two fires: in front of him, Echo's resolute gaze fixed on his own; behind him, the burning of Clarke's eyes that he felt on him. 

"I'm sorry," he replied to Echo, resolutely.

If he had had the choice, that wouldn't have been the way he would have done things, but his break-up with Echo was unfortunately irremediable. The spy looked down and shook her head. She didn't even seem surprised by his choice, just angry. She walked out of the room, Emori on her heels, and just like that, it was over. It was over, and apart from a pang of guilt that he was sadly used to and that had haunted him from the moment his eyes fell on Clarke when they returned to Earth, he felt nothing. 

The yelling resumed after Echo's departure, but he was now only half listening. His decision was already made: he would leave tonight and cross the Anomaly to find his sister. No complaint and no argument from anyone could stop him from carrying out his plan. 

"I'm coming with you."

Bellamy closed his eyes. Clarke's voice behind him was calm. Unshakeable. Nothing and no one could stop him from carrying out his plan... except maybe Clarke.

He turned to her and read in her blue eyes and on her angelic face everything he was afraid to find: a fierce determination, an almost provocative expression, a look that read “just try to stop me".

"No way, Clarke. After what happened here, Sanctum needs new leadership. All nightbloods must stay on Alpha."

"If you go, I go," she simply replied.

"And what about Madi? With all she's been through, she needs you by her side."

"From what I've been told, Octavia was only gone for a few seconds the first time, and even if it lasts longer, I know I can count on our friends to be there for her."

"Maybe we won't come back, what will you do if..."

"We'll find our way back. Together." she interrupted him, crossing her arms. "It's non-negotiable, Bellamy. Where you go, I go. I won't lose anyone else."

Already, Bellamy's determination was fading. He could risk his own life because, to be honest, he didn't really care anymore. Clarke's, on the other hand...

The arguments resumed in the room and Bellamy turned his gaze to Gabriel, who had remained silent until then. Concentrated, he seemed to be thinking deeply.

"Gabriel, what do you think?" Bellamy asked, without paying attention to whatever argument or threat he was interrupting with his question.

Gabriel straightened up, feeling the attention focusing on him. The cut on his cheek was still fresh and black blood was clotted along the wound, as black as the dark circles under his eyes. Bellamy knew that he had spent the last twenty-four hours at Hope's bedside, trying to unravel the secrets of the Anomaly while he waited for the girl, who was apparently Diyoza's daughter, to wake up. He clears his throat before answering: 

"Now that we have the code of the anomaly stone, we may have a way in and out without going through the vortex itself."

"And you couldn't have said that sooner?" Murphy exclaimed. 

Bellamy didn't listen to the reasons and explanations. His attention drifted away while Raven and Jordan began theorizing about the possibility of coding the anomaly.

"I don't care how you do it," he interrupted. "I want everything ready by nightfall. I'm going to get my sister. Tonight."

As he left the great hall, he couldn't help noticing that the shouting had now ceased and only a deathly silence had greeted his last words.

***

Bellamy didn't know what the hell had happened.

One second he was there, in the small cave hidden under Gabriel's tent, listening with a distracted ear to the geneticist's and Raven's instructions, Clarke in the periphery of his sight. The next, Gabriel and Raven had both left after one last "good luck" and "may we meet again". 

He realized that the warm, reassuring touch in his hand was Clarke's palm slipped into his own only when he lowered his head on their intertwined fingers. This image struck him as the rightest and most genuine thing he had seen in a long time. When he looked up, it was to dive his eyes into the blue of Clarke's own, and, God, how beautiful that blue was. It reminded him of the Earth, the azure of its sky, the sapphire of its oceans. A beauty that almost managed to blur the unreal and mysterious glow of the anomaly itself. 

"Ready?" she asked in a soft voice that gently brought him back to the present.

He merely nodded before applying his finger to the "O" of the anomaly stone. Then they waited a few seconds, enough time to wonder if perhaps he should have said something, anything at all. A password, a prayer, a magic word that could have led him to what he wanted. However, what would it have looked like if he had asked "lead me to Octavia" to a stone? Sure, it was a supernatural stone that levitated in the air by itself, but it wasn't a Genie ready to grant his wish either. 

So, when the sphere activated, when the earth shook, when the emerald’s glow shone brighter and brighter until it blinded them completely, he tightened his fingers around Clarke's and wished for just two things: that he and Clarke wouldn't be separated, and that he would find Octavia again.

***

Bellamy should have known none of his wishes would come true. It wasn't as if he'd ever gotten what he wanted in his life before anyway. Besides, when he thought about it, everything he had ever wished for had always been denied. So when he hit the hard, wet ground, opened his eyes to a light-flooded clearing, and discovered that he was alone, it didn't even surprise him. He stood up and looked at the blue sky, the scattered white clouds, the golden leaves hanging from the branches, and the dead ones covering the clearing, and instinctively he knew. He knew that he had just returned to Earth. 

"Clarke!" he shouted.

Bellamy didn't care whether he was heard or not. It wasn't as if grounders or mountain men or whatever else would suddenly appear out of the woods in his direction. He remembered painfully how the Earth had been when they left 132 years ago. He knew for a fact that the planet he had left behind was dead and empty. He was even surprised to find any form of life there at all: vegetation as far as the eye could see, colorful birds flying and chirping above his head, a spring of water meandering not far from him. He would have loved to take the time to enjoy it. He had missed Earth more than he realized... but most of all, he needed to find-

"Clarke!", he tried again.

He walked a few steps forward, trying to recognize where he was.

"Clarke!"

Suddenly, a creaking sound in the dead branches echoed to his right.

"Clarke?"

The voice that reached him was so familiar that hearing it sent a shiver down his spine. 

"What, Bellamy?" Clarke exclaimed, infuriated.

More twigs cracked under the young woman's footsteps, a sign that she was making her way through the woods to him. Yes, Bellamy would have recognized her voice among thousands, and yet something sounded different, something he couldn't quite put his finger on...

"I've told you a million times that I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself! I have a map, I know my way around, I took the gun you gave me, so what's-"

She pushed back the last branch between them, thus emerging in the clearing and froze as she spotted Bellamy, her eyes wide open. He also stood still, breathless.

Bellamy understood the second his eyes fell on her and noticed the long blond hair, the man's watch on her wrist, the dark blue jacket and the tan T-shirt. Even the backpack she was carrying was familiar. This Clarke, younger, more innocent, and so annoyed with him even though he had only called her name, was definitely not the Clarke he expected her to be.

And judging by her stunned look, the confusion, and wariness on her face, he wasn't the Bellamy she expected to meet in the forest either. She drew her weapon and Bellamy raised his hands in the air. It didn't take an expert in the study of Clarke's expressions (which he was anyway) to guess that she was willing to use it if she didn't get answers to her questions quickly. The fingers of her left hand were resting on the trigger, her eyebrows furrowed in stupefaction that he could almost have found comical if it wasn't him she was aiming at, at that very moment. 

"Clarke, wait-"

"Who are you? You're not Bellamy," she interrupted him.

He tried not to be offended by her remark. After all, he was as much the Bellamy that this Clarke of the past knew as she was the Clarke he knew in the future. If that even made sense.

"I promise I can explain."

"Is this some kind of a joke? If this is a joke, it's not funny."

"No, it's not a joke. Look, you can put the gun down, I would never hurt you, I-"

Clarke sniffed dismissively at his last words and Bellamy tried to convince himself that it was because it was obvious he would never harm her in any way, not because he was the stupid, selfish rebel he remembered all too well back then, the one she still didn't trust.

"Clarke, please stop pointing that thing at me and I'll-"

Once again he was interrupted, and this time the voice was more than just familiar: it was his own, coming from the forest and shouting, just like he had done a few minutes before:

"Clarke!"

For God's sake, between the noise they made as they walked and the cries they shouted, it was no wonder the grounders managed to kill them one by one so easily.

In front of him, Clarke wavered and frowned more, then finally answered:

"Bellamy? I'm here!"

Bellamy already knew he was going to hate what was about to happen right now, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. The branches creaked and the voice rumbled, closer and closer by the second:

"Clarke, I've told you before not to go into the forest alone. If you leave camp, you have to tell me first and ask one of the guards to come with you, it's the rule we made together, why-"

When the other version of him appeared, Bellamy couldn't help but gasp. It was like being in front of a mirror that would have distorted his reflection. He recognized the black hair, the dark eyes, the freckles that his lack of beard revealed, but he struggled to reconcile this vision of himself with the person he was today.

"Great, just what I needed," he muttered.

The other Bellamy stood still and opened his mouth in astonishment at the scene in front of him.

"What the hell?" he shouted.

"I don't know," Clarke replied, tightening her grip on the gun. "It's your exact copy, Bellamy," she added, her voice trembling.

"What?" exclaimed her companion, as if offended. "He doesn't look anything like me."

"I am you, you dumbass," said Bellamy, suddenly more tired and annoyed than he had been in a long time.

"It's the Jobi nuts again, isn't it?" asked the younger version of himself to Clarke. "If Monty and Jasper think it's funny, I swear I'm gonna-"

He didn't finish his threat, and Clarke replied:

"No, that's not it. I feel fine, and we wouldn’t be hallucinating the same thing at the same time..."

"I'm not a hallucination," Bellamy said with a sigh. "I am real. And I can tell you everything if you put the gun down. Clarke, please."

He caught the doubt in her blue eyes and continued:

"You can trust me, I can prove it's me, that I'm Bellamy, all right."

"I am Bellamy," denied the other him, and Bellamy suppressed his desire to slap him - to slap himself in the back of the head.

"Shut up," Clarke and Bellamy replied at the same time.

The young man closed his mouth and Bellamy continued.

"You mentioned the Jobi nuts," he said, "So what, it's been like two weeks since we arrived on Earth? First, we lost Grant and Glenn when they detached themselves in the dropship before landing. Then Tryna and Pascal, who were never found again. It was me who found Atom in the woods, but it was you who ended his life when I was too much of a coward to put him out of his misery. We saved Jasper, and I-I saved your life by keeping you from falling into the pit set by the Grounders. We lost Wells and Charlotte-"

"Any spy could have seen this sort of thing," argued the other Bellamy, and Clarke didn't let go of her grip on the gun. 

So he searched his memory, digging up the things that she had revealed about herself over the months he had been by her side, and the stories he had picked up about her from her mere closeness, things that he had learned in deep mutual respect and unique friendship and that this younger version of himself could not yet know.

"You and Wells used to play chess every week in the Ark library. You were better than he was, but you'd let him beat you once in a while to indulge him."

At those words, Clarke's eyes clouded and Bellamy hated himself for putting her back into such sadness, but that was all he could think of, so he continued:

"Wells used to trade his rations and possessions for pencils and brushes so you could draw-"

"How can you know that?" she asked, her voice trembling with emotion at the memories of her childhood friend who recently died in their camp. "I only told Finn."

"Because I know you, Clarke. You're my-- you're my best friend, and I-- you've told me all this before. And since you're talking about him, I also know you slept with Finn."

The grimace she made at that moment was probably identical to the one on his face. It wasn't something he particularly liked to think about if he had to be completely honest with himself.

"You slept with Finn?", suddenly exclaimed the other him and Bellamy, just like Clarke, turned his attention to him to discover the perfect reflection of what he was feeling deep down when he tried not to imagine Finn and Clarke together: a mixture of loathing, shock, and anger. Bellamy could almost have laughed at this reaction if he hadn't been afraid that Clarke would shoot him.

He stopped Clarke from responding and getting distracted as he continued:

"You didn't know Raven existed when you did, and you regretted it the moment she landed on Earth."

He realized Clarke was slowly putting the gun down, so he went:

"When you hallucinated because of Jobi nuts, you walked into your isolation cell in the ark and your father appeared to you."

Clarke's hand trembled slightly and her frown softened.

"And your cell - your cell on the Ark is covered with drawings from floor to ceiling. Things you've drawn of the Earth as you imagined it to be. The pyramids of Egypt, the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, the Empire State Building in New York. The forest, insects, flowers... And on the floor, a huge starry sky above a forest just like this one.

This time, Clarke lowered the barrel of her gun and asked:

"How can you know all this?"

One thing for sure was that he couldn't tell her how he had spent hours in that cell mourning her after Praimfaya when he thought she was dead. So, he just said in a soft voice:

"I told you, Clarke. You and I... We're very close. You know who I am, and I know who you are."

She kept her gaze locked in his for several long seconds, as if trying to read the answers directly into his soul, then gently nodded before holstering her gun. Immediately, Bellamy breathed more easily.

"How do I know I can trust you? It's not as if he and I are friends," she said, pointing to the other version of him staring at them blankly.

The latter applied a hand to his chest in mocking mimicry as if offended by the remark.

"Ouch, that hurts, Princess. Although I've saved your life a few times already, that should work in my favor..."

"The only reason you did it was because I'm the closest thing to a doctor here," she replied sarcastically.

"That's fair enough," mumbled the young man, and Bellamy refrained from wiping his arrogant smile with his fists, preferring words to punches.

"If you keep telling yourself that, you might start to believe it," he spat at himself.

The cocky smile on his younger self’s face vanished.

Memories of the moment he had grabbed Clarke's wrist when she had fallen into the pit at Jasper's feet or the night he had tackled Dax while he was pointing a gun at her were now blurred and unclear... Yet one thing remained sharp and clear, it was the intensity with which his instincts had always urged him to save her, the strength with which his reflexes had shouted "not her" when she was in danger. He would not have been able to guess the reasons at the time, but it was obvious today. The devotion, the care, the love he now had for Clarke hadn’t just appeared out of nowhere. They had been there from the very beginning, from the very first day, from the very first time she stood before him head held high and proud and said that the only way the Ark could think she was dead, was if she was indeed dead. She was a pain in the ass and challenged his weak command, but goddamnit, she made him smile... These feelings had only grown through time and hardships. He had just gotten better and better at ignoring them. 

"All right, I believe you," Clarke told him. "Explain yourself now."

Another snap sounded in the woods and they all froze.

"We have to get out of here, Princess," warned the other Bellamy. "It's not safe to wander in the woods, and that's why I was looking for you in the first place."

"Okay," she admitted. "But it's not like we can go back to camp. It's Unity Day tomorrow, and everyone's out there planning the party. We'll never go unnoticed."

"I can try to make a diversion," suggested her partner.

At this suggestion, Clarke rolled her eyes.

"I don't think running through camp and to yell that the Grounders are attacking us would be the best idea," she disagreed as if reading his mind.

"At least I'm trying to find one,” he snapped, immediately offended, and Bellamy tried unsuccessfully to stop himself from smiling.

The young woman thought for a few seconds and seemed to make up her mind.

"Okay, I think I know where we're going to take him... Bellamy, follow me... Both Bellamy, I mean."

They let her lead their little trio and started walking in quick succession.

An endearing smile appeared on Bellamy's lips for old times' sake while a new smirk lifted the younger one's.

"Admit it, Princess," he couldn't help but taunt her. "Two versions of me, that's all you ever dreamed of."

Bellamy sighed. What the hell had he gotten himself into again this time?


	2. Sun in the sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my lovely bêta Lili who is SO perfect...

Bellamy recognized the woods after only a few minutes of walking and realized where Clarke wanted to take him without her having said anything yet. However, he chose to remain silent. Silence, in fact, seemed to be the operative word for their little expedition in the woods. No one said a word, and aside from the sound of Clarke and his other self's footsteps on the leaves and twigs, a few birds and the sound of the wind in the branches, nothing could be heard in the forest. 

Yet it wasn't that Bellamy had nothing to say. Quite the opposite in fact. He was already fascinated by Clarke under normal circumstances, but to be confronted with the version of her from six years ago (give or take 130 years) captivated him even more and left him speechless. So, all he could do to avoid staring at her for too long, to avoid detailing the familiar way her body moved, to avoid admiring the way her long blonde waves flew in the breeze and glowed in the sun, was to watch the surroundings and wonder when the Grounders were going to ambush them. 

Because one thing’s for sure, if the two of them kept moving around so loudly, they were going to rouse all the Trikru warriors within a hundred miles. Bellamy was blown away by how inexperienced and naive they had been at the time. 

When Clarke walked close to the secret bunker hatch that she had discovered with Finn but didn't stop, Bellamy caught up with the young woman and walked beside her to ask her:

"If you wanted to take me to the bunker, the entrance was right there."

Clarke raised an eyebrow and turned her head to look at him, curious.

"So you knew that, too?"

He nodded and she shook her head, looking like she still couldn't believe it.

"We're going to the river. It's not very far and as Bell- I mean the other you pointed out, I do need red seaweed."

The other Bellamy, who was walking a few steps behind them, coughed to mask his comments, but the words "I knew it" were distinguishable. Then Bellamy observed something he had never had the chance to see before today. From the other man's point of view, he could only have perceived the way her shoulders tensed, only could have heard the tired sigh she let out, but from where he was standing next to her, he could discern her smile. And that smile was forgiving, soft, endearing. Magnificent.

It was crazy that he needed to see that to understand that even then, when he was just an ass, Clarke already cared about him. Just like he already cared about her. 

God, what an idiot he'd been.

Clarke's smile faded as she noticed Bellamy's eyes on her, watching her attentively.

"What?"

"Nothing," he replied softly, still in shock. 

Anything he would have liked to tell Clarke, he would have liked to tell _his_ Clarke. The one in the future, the one in his present. 

Behind them, young Bellamy sped up the pace and came to stand between him and Clarke. 

"So, if you truly are the future me, what can you tell us?"

Bellamy remained silent, thinking of all the things he knew and could share with them, all the suffering he could save them from. However, it was as if there was an unspoken rule forbidding him to say anything. No one had warned him to keep quiet, but he felt that if he said too much, a lot of very serious things could happen.

"Nothing at all?" the young man asked him. "You're what, ten years older than me-"

"Six years," he instantly corrected, even though the correct answer would have been 132 years.

"Wow, you look way older, what the hell happened to us in those six years?"

This time it was Clarke who answered:

"I'm not sure it's wise for him to answer questions like that."

"Why not?"

"Well, I don't know. It just seems like too much Information..." she replied. "I'm not sure I'd want to know if I were to die tomorrow-"

Bellamy didn't give her time to finish her sentence.

"You are not going to die."

Clarke's blue eyes gazed into his own at the sheer intensity of his words. Too smart for her own good, she then asked:

"Is that why you were shouting my name in the forest? Were you looking for my other self? Am I here, too?"

"Yes, no... I'm not sure..."

She frowned.

"Clarke came here with me, and I- I guess we were separated the moment we arrived..."

At least that's what he was hoping for.

"If another Clarke is wandering through this forest and up to our camp, I'm sure we'll hear about it soon enough," muttered the other Bellamy.

"I don't know about that. You barely recognized yourself when you saw him, and neither did I," Clarke countered, before asking, "What do I look like? Am I very different?"

Bellamy took several seconds to look at her before answering her question, getting lost in her long blonde curls, in the light of her eyes, in her youth. In her gaze, the innocence that had sparkled in their first hours on earth had unfortunately already faded away. 

The other Bellamy grew impatient and broke their connection with a harsh "so?".

He cleared his throat and answered:

"No. Your hair is short now, but... you're still you."

Clarke smiled.

"Sorry to interrupt," sighed the other Bellamy, looking not sorry at all, "but we're here."

Once out in the open, everything went very quickly and smoothly. Bellamy figured that the good thing about having two versions of himself for this kind of thing was that he could be on all fronts at once without ever having to tell the other one what to do. The other one was him.

Once the red seaweed was safely stowed in Clarke's backpack, she took back the lead of their trip.

"Here we go. Let's not linger if we want to get back to camp before nightfall."

"And where are we going?" asked the young man, skeptical.

"To the art supply store," Bellamy and Clarke replied in unison before looking at each other, one curious, the other amused.

"It's starting to get tiring," young Bellamy mumbled as he walked past them, even though he didn't know where he was supposed to go. Clarke laughed at his behavior, gently enough so that he didn't hear her, but carelessly enough so that Bellamy could see it. All he could do was stand there, looking at her, while she revealed herself a little more to him.

If he had been told that the Clarke of their first weeks on Earth had cared about him, he never would have believed it. No, witnessing it with his own eyes was the only way he would have realized it.

"So, can you at least tell us what you're doing here?" Clarke asked after pointing the other Bellamy in the right direction. 

The latter was at a good enough distance not to hear his answer, and he guessed that was exactly why Clarke had kept him slightly ahead of them. 

"I'm looking for Octavia."

At this, Clarke raised an eyebrow but did not seem surprised.

"I guess some things never change," she simply replied.

He knew right away what she was referring to, knew full well that a few days earlier, this younger version of himself had also been looking for Octavia all over the forest and had brought back from his expedition a wounded Finn, and Lincoln, bound and ready to be tortured.

"I guess not," he answered then.

He wanted so badly to tell her that other things had drastically changed, starting with their relationship, but that would have been both too much to say and not enough, so he held back and silently watched every look the other Bellamy gave them. He noted his tense posture, his furrowed brows, his clenched fists. He knew himself well enough to recognize the emotions that troubled his young self right there and then: confusion, suspicion, but also anger and jealousy. He wanted so badly to shake him up and make him realize how lucky he was, but that was not his role, nor his place. This Bellamy would have to learn, like him, through mistakes and loss, how important Clarke was in his life.

"What has she gotten herself into this time?" Clarke asked about Octavia. "I guess she wasn't chasing a butterfly either..."

The vivid memory of Octavia's blood on his hands, the weight of her body in his arms, and the green glow that had wrenched her from him made his heart clench in his chest. Clarke understood that he wouldn't answer the question, so she asked another one, which she thought was probably easier:

"What's going on with the beard?"

Surprised, he raised a hand to his face. Looking at his beardless self, he'd almost forgotten the facial hair on his cheeks. Without meeting her eyes, he whispered his answer:

"I needed to be someone else for a few years."

Clarke seemed doubtful, but continued:

"And did it work?"

"No," he replied honestly.

"So are you going to shave now?"

This conversation was so surreal, he laughed for a second.

"I don't know yet... I don't think I'll have time for that."

"Well, you'll have plenty of time tonight."

Bellamy grimaced.

"I don't like the idea of being locked in a bunker all night..."

"Too bad you don't have a choice!" young Bellamy shouted in front of them, while still walking resolutely.

"He doesn't seem to like you very much..." Clarke whispered, half a smile on her lips.

"Well, I don't like him very much either," he said.

Clarke seemed puzzled by his answer.

"Why wouldn't you like the person you were then?"

Bellamy shrugged. The most obvious answers were far from the easiest. He remembered the struggle he'd given Clarke. The wristbands he'd forced people to take off. The torture he'd inflicted on Lincoln. Poor Murphy lost in the wilderness, a victim of his own mistakes. Charlotte. The radio he threw in the river... With each memory, his heart crumbled a little more. How could he _not_ hate himself then? But the worst, the worst...

"He doesn't realize how lucky he is... I would give anything to repeat these moments knowing what I know today."

For a few seconds, Clarke said nothing, then tried to lighten the mood with a little:

"You seem to like me enough now, though."

And all Bellamy could say was:

"Yes. But that was already the case."

This time the shock was noticeable on Clarke's face and Bellamy felt he had said too much. Fortunately, his other self stopped and asked her if this was the place Clarke had described. The young woman nodded and pushed back the few branches that covered the underground entrance before opening the access to the bunker. The other Bellamy went down first and motioned them to move forward. He followed him in the shadows and Clarke followed them both, closing the hatch behind them. 

The bunker was almost welcoming with the candles lit and displayed on all surfaces. Far away from Bellamy's cold and morbid memory of it.

"How did you find this place?" the youngest Bellamy asked Clarke as she fanned her match.

"Finn found it, not me," she replied, before adding, " it was where we hid with Charlotte."

Bellamy watched the sadness darken both their faces. The loss of Charlotte seemed far away to him now, but it was still one of his most painful memories. He had felt so miserable, so helpless in the face of what he considered his first failure. But it was also at that moment that he realized he couldn't do it alone, that he knew Clarke Griffin was not only a pain in his ass but also precious support and help that he had to learn to rely on. It was probably at that very moment that he started to lower his protective walls around her and let her in a bit. 

"How long are you going to keep me here?"

In front of him, the two young leaders exchanged a knowing look and suddenly Bellamy understood why everyone seemed so annoyed by their non-verbal communication. He didn't realize their silent conversations had started so early. He sighed, already aware of what the answer was going to be.

"I'm sorry," Clarke said. "We can't just let you wander through the forest or the camp. It's too complicated and too dangerous."

"Who says I'm going to sit here and listen to you? I could run away and continue my search on my own. I don't need you and I know the area well."

"I don’t believe you would try to hurt yourself," she replied, pointing to the Bellamy of her time who already had a hand on the rifle hanging from his shoulder. "Let alone me, for that matter."

The young woman was sure of herself and Bellamy cursed himself for letting too much of their future connection show. How could this Clarke so easily have read what his Clarke was still struggling to see, despite all the times he'd fought to keep her by his side?

He sighed, defeated.

"So you're keeping me here tonight? And then what?" he asked, angrily.

"Then you tell us what you're looking for and everything you know, and we'll see if we'll let you go," said his other-self, moving towards him, threatening.

"I can't do that," he replied.

"If what you know can help us win this war, you should tell us right now."

For God's sake, how he could get on his own nerves. Just listening to himself talk about "winning" made him want to snap back. He couldn't believe it was his priority at the time, not "saving lives" or "helping people," just "winning." He really was just an arrogant, ignorant little jerk.

"What I know could help you, yes," he admitted before Clarke interrupted him.

"Then help us," she begged, diving her blue eyes into his.

Bellamy used all of his willpower to answer, his voice broken:

"I can't."

This time young-Bellamy raised his voice.

"It's either them or us out there. Are you going to leave us alone knowing all the people you could save?"

"It's a lot more complicated than that, all right!" he exploded. "What happens if I talk now and what I say results in more people dying?"

He had no idea how time travel worked, but if the books and movies he'd read about it on the Ark could be an indication of how to deal with it, they all warned him not to reveal anything about the future at the risk of causing even worse disasters than those that had already happened. And Bellamy didn't even want to imagine what kind of disasters could be worse than two ends of the world or leaving Clarke alone on a burning Earth for six years.

"What if I talk now and you-we die," he kept going, desperate to make him realize even greater stakes than those of his little self. "What if she dies," he asked, pointing to Clarke, trying to ignore the heartbreak he felt at that simple thought.

The young woman cleared her throat, interrupting their argument.

"Okay, no information about the future," she recapitulated. "Message received." 

The message did seem to get through to her, but this was far from being the case for his other self, who had started pacing around in the confined space. As she watched him walk across the room, the young woman noticed his jerky breathing and the way he ran his hand through his short brown hair, and somehow seemed to understand that the two Bellamy's might need to be alone for a few minutes to talk.

"We'll be back tomorrow morning and we can discuss what to do then," she said to him. "In the meantime, you're safe here. Apart from Finn and me, no one knows about this place yet."

He gave her a nod and watched her climb up the ladder to the surface and out of the bunker, leaving them alone with one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Your support means everything to me, please take the time to leave a comment! See you Saturday for the next update ;)


	3. Breeze driftin' on by

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Lili for being the best bêta in the universe!

If Clarke seemed to understand his decision not to divulge information about their future, it was hardly the case with his other-self. This younger version of himself didn't seem interested in reasoning. The moment Clarke was out of view, he walked towards Bellamy with a strong, visibly angry stride, and said:

"You asked what would happen if Clarke died. Who cares? And why are you defending her like that? Why do we give a damn about her?"

He didn't have time to finish his sentence when, in a tornado of screams and jostling, Bellamy grabbed him by the collar and stuck him against the nearest wall. 

"Why do we give a damn about her," he repeated, unable to calm the fury that ran through his veins. 

"Let go of me!" struggled the other him.

His younger self was sharp and lean, but he was stronger and more resilient, had more than one arrow in his quiver after weeks of surviving on Earth, months of training with Lincoln, and years of being knocked down by Echo on the Ring. His other self didn't stand a chance. Bellamy strengthened his grip on his shirt and pinned him back against the wall. 

"She-" he began, before choking on the words tumbling down his throat. "Listen to me! She is the reason I'm still breathing today, you jackass. She's gonna save our lives more times than you can count. She's going to save us from ourselves. She's the reason we're good. You have no idea how important she is to us."

His other self didn't seem to want to hear these words and went on, defiant and smug:

"What, are we in love with her or something?"

If he thought he was going to throw him off balance with that question, he wasn't even close. It had been a long time - an eternity really - since Bellamy realized how he felt about Clarke. So he stayed focused on his other self, and while his silence already spoke volumes about the reality of what he was feeling, he carefully chose his words before answering:

"Clarke is everything to us. And so much more. Stop lying to yourself and you'll realize that you already know that."

Suddenly, a cool hand landed on his arm, and Bellamy turned around to see that younger Clarke had just joined them. With one touch of her hand, she silently asked him to release her companion, which he did, suddenly letting him fall back to his feet. He watched as she helped this other version of himself up, checking that he was all right. Over the young woman's shoulder, the other didn't let go of his gaze and Bellamy read in the reflection of his own eyes the acknowledgment and recognition.

It was a long time ago, but he remembered all too well the day when everything had changed for him and Clarke. There was nothing romantic about that moment, and not even the moon shining above their heads could have softened the sight of Dax's body at their feet. Yet, despite the sweat, blood, and tears that darkened their features, it was at that very moment that the young woman had for the very first time shaken the thick walls that he had taken so long to build around him. That night, she had made her way into his soul, had reached his heart, and had made it hers by offering him forgiveness that had been denied to him for far too long and that he did not think he deserved. And for months after that, he had lied to himself over and over again, refusing to feel the beginnings of what had become inevitable: Bellamy had fallen in love with her that night and every day since he had only fallen deeper and deeper. And the falling had never stopped. He was still freefalling. 

"If you can't behave, I'll come back alone tomorrow," Clarke warned as she stood between them.

"Out of the question," both Bellamys exclaimed in one voice.

"That's what I thought. Then keep it down, both of you."

The two men could only remain silent and nod in agreement...After letting him know once again why he shouldn't leave, the two leaders disappeared through the hatch, leaving Bellamy and his tormented thoughts alone in the bunker. 

He fell on the couch in the middle of the room and sighed heavily, his head in his hands, still shaken by all that had happened in the last few hours, and exhausted by his last conversation with his other-self. It had been a long time since he had indulged his emotions this way, and this time he didn't wonder if maybe he had said too much. No, he knew he had, and he had done so on purpose. He was hoping for two things now, that this Bellamy could realize his feelings and act before it was too late, but also that this Clarke hadn't heard too much. He had spent his day letting it slip out how much he cared about her, and he didn't want his latest words to cause her to distance herself from him, or worse, to walk away.

A noise on his right, coming from the back of the bunker, made him snap his head up. His breath caught when the door of what young Clarke had presented as an unusable bathroom slid open and a familiar face appeared in the doorway. He got up hastily, but stood motionless, unable to think of anything to do or say as his heart pounded in his chest. 

"Clarke?"

He wanted to walk towards her, closer, to make sure she wasn't hurt, to ask how she got here, to take her in his arms just for a second to prove to himself that she was indeed here with him. He closed his fists and held on, frozen on the spot by the way she had crossed her arms, as if she was trying to protect herself, by the way she was biting her lower lip as if she was trying to hold back the words she was desperate to say, and above all, by the way her blue eyes were shining with the tears she was struggling to contain.

The silence became heavy and emotionally charged, as the seconds went by and their gaze did not leave each other. In the darkened room, the words Bellamy had said seconds before still seemed to ring out. He hadn't said the exact words, but the meaning of them left no mistaking the nature of his feelings for her. This was not how he had pictured confessing his feelings for her, and his confession hovered in the air, imperceptible but heavy with meaning, a Damocles Sword about to fall at any moment, ripping their hearts or mending them, ending the life they knew.

"Did you hear that?" he finally dared to ask when the silence began to stretch to infinity.

With a slight nod, she said yes, and a terrible weight fell on Bellamy's shoulders. Clarke's blue eyes never left him as he ran a shaky hand across his face. When she finally spoke, it wasn't to say what he expected to hear.

"It was reckless of you."

Her voice was filled with the same emotion that her gaze held, but it didn't reveal anything of what she was thinking. The control she had over herself was beginning to seriously frustrate him. 

"Is that all you have to say?"

She raised an eyebrow at his question and slowly approached him. He didn't move an inch, counted the steps she took to get closer, watched her left-hand rise slowly to touch his cheek. He couldn't help but close his eyes and lean into her hand as her cold skin touched his own. Clarke's skin was always cold, he realized at that moment, thinking back to all the times he'd had the opportunity to touch it. It had only been colder at one particular moment, a moment he didn't want to relive for anything in the world. When her heart had stopped beating. When he had fought to bring her back to life. He remembered only too well how cold her lips had been when he had laid his on them to breathe into her lungs the oxygen she needed. She said his name, so low that it was almost a sigh, and he opened his eyelids. His brown eyes immediately fell on the lips that haunted his memories, right there, so close to his own. A burning desire overwhelmed him, that of wiping out the memory of that painful moment when her cold, lifeless mouth had not responded to his, and replacing it with another where his burning lips would consume hers, leaving only a blazing and crushing passion in their wake.

As always, Clarke seemed to read his thoughts and to be on the same page. The thumb of the hand resting on his cheek gently grazed the edge of his lips and he held his breath. His eyes moved away from her mouth to search for her gaze, only to discover that she had hers locked on the motion of her finger on his upper lip. Her gesture stopped and a shiver ran up his spine. 

She moved to take her hand away, but Bellamy didn't want this to end, didn't want her to step back, to walk away, to break the moment. He put his hand on hers, gently turned his face to drop a kiss first on her thumb, then on her palm, then on her wrist. She put her other hand on his chest. Bellamy's fingers settled on Clarke's waist. It was like they were holding on to each other, trying to keep their balance as the world around them spun and twisted, forever changed by the tenderness of their touch and the hidden meaning behind each one of them. 

"You mean everything to me, too. And so much more."

Clarke's whisper seemed to reverberate throughout the room ten times louder than any other word. Her hot breath grazed his lips, his cheeks, and Bellamy lost himself for a few seconds in this new sense of closeness. Overwhelmed, he pressed his forehead against hers, allowing their lips to come even closer together, their breaths to mingle, their hearts to beat as one.

"Hey, is everything okay here?"

Both Bellamy and Clarke startled when the voice rang out from the entrance of the bunker, bursting the bubble they were in and shattering that moment of serenity. They took a step back but kept their grip on each other's bodies. Clarke's hand still on his heart, his own still on her waist. Lost in their emotions and sensations, neither of them had heard the metallic sound of the bunker door as it opened. 

Clarke cleared her throat. She didn't seem surprised by the interruption, although her face betrayed a hint of frustration that was probably mirrored on Bellamy's face right now.

"Yes, you can come in."

When Bellamy finally caught sight of the person who was climbing down the ladder, his heart, which had been beating so fast just a few seconds before, stopped abruptly. 

"Lincoln!"

He could not hold back his surprise call, nor the strides that led him to him, nor the brotherly embrace he gave him. Feeling the warrior freeze at his touch, he released him and took a few steps back. Clarke walked up to him, a sad smile on her face at this unusual reunion. It was to her that Lincoln spoke.

"I suppose he's from the future too?"

She nodded and he turned his attention back to Bellamy and said:

"I know we worked out our differences where you come from, but here you tortured me and held me prisoner not even two weeks ago. So forgive me if I don't share your enthusiasm."

A knot formed in Bellamy's throat.

"You're right. I'm sorry."

The weight of Bellamy's words suddenly weighed heavily in the air around them. Both he and Clarke knew he wasn't just apologizing for imprisoning and torturing him on the ship. There were so many things he would have liked to say, so many mistakes he would have liked to fix. But their time was over, the past belonged to the past.

Nevertheless, Lincoln nodded his head and brought their attention back to what mattered right now.

"We have to hurry. If what you told me is true, Finn will be here any minute to set up the meeting with Anya. Everything has to go on as planned."

"What are you talking about? Clarke?" Bellamy asked, lost.

"I'll explain on the way," she replied, leading the way out of the bunker.

The moment of intimacy they shared just a few seconds earlier was quickly pushed aside. If there was one thing Clarke knew how to do, it was to compartmentalize everything in the back of her mind. It was the very thing Bellamy had always been unable to do, the thing he had tried to do every time Clarke had been taken away from him, the thing he hoped he would never have to do again in his life. 

The three companions silently blended into the woods while Clarke explained to Bellamy what had happened to her in the last few hours. How she had understood that they were on Earth, how she had followed the sound of his voice when he had called her, only to realize that the Bellamy who was calling her through the forest was not him from now, but him from the past. How she had followed him through the woods to finally reach them. She had been tracking them all day until she realized they were on their way to the bunker. She had tried to outrun them there but had been caught by Lincoln. She then quickly recounted how she had managed to convince him that she wasn't who he thought she was.

"Her Trigedasleng was far too perfect to be a trick," Lincoln added with a smile.

"Mochof," Clarke replied, before turning back to Bellamy. "Then I decided to wait for you in the bunker. It was risky, but I honestly didn't know what these younger us might have been capable of at the time. I couldn't risk them doing anything to you. Lincoln was supposed to pick us up at nightfall so we could go back to S-"

She paused before mentioning Sanctum's name, unsure whether she could share this kind of information. Bellamy understood, however, and asked:

"Go home? Why so soon? We don't even know if Octavia is here."

“She's not," Lincoln replied, making Bellamy stop short.

"How can you know that?"

The Trikru warrior gave Clarke a questioning look, and she motioned for him to explain. Lincoln took a deep breath and announced:

"I've known two different Octavias. The second is your sister. She landed here with you in that spaceship. She's young and strong, but still innocent and naive. The first though... The first Octavia, I found her in the woods almost thirteen years ago. She was wounded as if someone had stabbed her in the abdomen. I healed her, I kept her in a small shelter not far from here. She stayed there for several weeks until she got better, and then one day she was gone."

Telling that story seemed to hurt Lincoln deeply.

"I didn't know it was the same person. I could see the similarities, of course, even without the tattoos and scars, but I never could have imagined it was the same Octavia."

"That's why you had a sketch of her in your notebook..." Bellamy whispered, remembering the rage he felt when he came across the drawing as Lincoln resisted every one of his hits, tied to the top level of their dropship.

The man nodded and tears filled Bellamy's brown eyes.

"You saved her. Once again. When you were just a kid."

"I did."

"You were in love with her."

Lincoln swallowed painfully before answering again:

"Yes. But I was young. Many years have passed since then."

"Not for us," replied the eldest Blake.

This time, as he moved quickly toward Lincoln, the latter stepped back, unsure of what Bellamy was going to do. When he reached for his forearm, Lincoln hesitated only a second before grasping it in an honorary clasp in the tradition of his clan.

"Mochof, ai bro," Bellamy whispered, his voice tight with emotion.

Bellamy took his place back next to Clarke, who put a comforting hand behind his back. Then they made their way through the woods for a few minutes before Bellamy broke the silence and asked:

"How is this possible?"

Clarke turned to him, waiting for the rest of his question.

"How can Octavia have appeared in this same place more than a decade ago and us only a few hours ago, when she's only been missing in the anomaly for two days?"

"I have no idea. One thing's for sure, we're not in the right place or the right time."

"And how are we going to get back now? I haven’t seen or heard of any anomaly stones on this planet..."

"That's where I come in," answered Lincoln. 

In front of Bellamy's interrogation look, Clarke filled:

"The stone is in Lincoln's cave."

"Are you kidding me?"

"I wish I were."

***

Bellamy could not grasp the full implications of the fact that the anomaly stone was in the cave that Lincoln had made his sanctuary. However, being there, deep inside the cave where he had "saved" his sister on their early days on Earth, was not a figment of his imagination. The stone was quietly floating in front of them, emitting a slight humming sound and a hypnotic greenish glow. 

"The sphere was off until this morning," Lincoln said. "I think your presence must have triggered it..."

Well, it was not only the best explanation but also the only one they got. Clarke fetched the little piece of paper on which Gabriel had written the code to reactivate the stone and turned to Lincoln before saying:

"I don't think you should be here for this."

He didn't move an inch. Frowning, he seemed to hesitate before finally asking the question that had been on his mind for several hours now.

"I'm not going to make it am I?"

The look exchanged by Bellamy and Clarke was all the answer he needed.

"It was my fault," Bellamy began, before being interrupted by Clarke.

"Don't say that, Bellamy. You know it's not true."

"No, Clarke, please, I need to do this..."

The young woman stepped back slightly and fell silent as Bellamy took a deep breath. He held Lincoln's gaze as he uttered...

"I tried to save you, but it was too late. I failed. I'm sorry."

The warrior swallowed.

"If you tried to stop it, you can't say it was your fault," he replied after a long silence, and Bellamy's shoulders dropped as the weight of his guilt softened.

Lincoln nodded and took a few steps back, saying:

"I can't wait to meet you, Bellamy kom Skaikru. You too, Clarke."

The young woman smiled and watched as Lincoln disappeared from the cave, leaving them alone in front of the anomaly stone. Once again, Clarke put his hand on Bellamy's arm.

"I'm fine, Clarke," he answered softly to her silent question.

"It's crazy to think that all the people we've known and lost are alive right now. I was almost tempted to go to the camp to see them with my own eyes. Monty and Jasper. Harper and Finn."

"Lexa too," Bellamy added, and Clarke's expression darkened.

"She's probably plotting our deaths right now," she said lightly, even though Bellamy could read the lingering pain the memory of this loss was still causing across her face. 

"Gina and your mother are on the Ark," he added. "So are Sinclair, Jaha, and Marcus."

This time Clarke's eyes filled with tears and Bellamy couldn't help but ask aloud the question that seemed to haunt him throughout his life.

"Why do all the people we love end up dead?"

A teardrop ran softly down Clarke's cheek and Bellamy collected it tenderly on his fingertip before pushing a few blonde locks behind her ear. At that moment, she gazed up at his and said:

"We're still here, though. Together."

The words were so simple yet so true that Bellamy's heart burst in his chest. Outside the cave, a noise was heard and Clarke squeezed Gabriel's paper in her hand before turning to the stone. Bellamy watched her activate the Stone, then stop before pressing the last symbol. 

She reached out her hand to him and he grabbed it without hesitation. This time, he would not let go of it. Bellamy didn't even know where or when the Anomaly would take them, or if he would find his sister there, or even if he might return to the rest of his family one day, but one thing was certain, he would keep Clarke by his side for as long as she wanted him.

With their clasped hands, they pressed the last symbol of the anomaly stone and disappeared into an emerald light. Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!   
> At first, I planned to end this fic with this third chapter, but my imagination has a brain of its own so I'm still writing this fic as we speak. Chapters 4 and 5 are already written and I know where I want to go with this, but I'm gonna wait a little to post the next parts. I don't want to leave you hanging (I mean, more than I already have haha *forgive me*)
> 
> Your kudos and comments warm my heart so please let me know what you think! 
> 
> Zouzou


	4. Fish in the Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy and Clarke used the Anomaly Stone in Lincoln's cave in order to chase after Octavia, find her, and bring her home with them... What's their next stop, now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, little Time-jumpers. Welcome at the beginning of part two. I think I'm going with three chapters in this timeline, so enjoy!

Clarke didn't know what to expect when she opened her eyes, but it certainly wasn't to see the all-too-familiar ceiling of Becca's bunker above her head. The faint green glow around them indicated that the Anomaly Stone might not be far away, she weakly turned her head to find it floating in a corner of the room. Beside her, a grunt sounded. She turned her head to discern Bellamy's silhouette in the darkness of the emerald glow. He hadn't let go of her hand this time and was clutching her fingers tightly in his own. This touch, like his close presence here with her and the still vivid memories of their last interaction, caused a rush of butterfly flutters in her chest. She took her hand away and tried to get up slowly, asking:

"Bellamy, are you all right?" 

She felt exhausted, suddenly, as if waking up from a deep sleep and she had trouble emerging. Her companion opened his eyes too and, after making sure she was all right, scanned the area around them, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Where are we?" asked her companion in a slurred voice. "Is this-"

"Becca's bunker, yes," she replied, then squinted her eyes to better distinguish the surroundings. "I don't know what level, though."

Bellamy got up before her and helped her up. Then they padded to one of the many light switches in the room. 

"If the light doesn't detect our presence, it means the computer is off."

"You think?"

"Well, I've lived here alone for forty-two days. I think I can say that I'm positive."

This bunker was powered almost entirely by solar energy. Only, after Praimfaya, this system had become precarious. Clarke had stopped counting the hours spent in the darkness of this bunker from which she thought she'd never get out alive.

Finally, she found a small lever next to the huge screens that were turned off and attached to one of the walls, and lowered it. A muffled sound gently roared around them, and the neon lights on the ceiling flickered dimly before lighting up for good. On the other side of the giant room, Bellamy's voice came distant.

"It sounds like we're on the seventh floor. I thought it was sealed or something? That Raven couldn't get in."

"You're right. I've never been able to get in here either, and not for lack of trying."

A silence accompanied her words, and she watched the four big screens on the wall slowly light up. Eventually, Bellamy asked another question.

"Why try to reach this level when you already had six of your own?"

"I was looking for water and food. I was too afraid to leave the bunker. At one point, I really thought I was going to die here."

She heard but didn't register the harsh, staggering way Bellamy held his breath behind her. Any other time, she would have told him it was all in the past, that she had managed to survive, and that he shouldn't still blame himself for leaving her here alone when that's what she had begged him to do in their last moments together. She certainly could have been a bit more tactful, but her attention was focused on the screens in front of her and on what they were displaying.

"Oh my God."

"What?" Bellamy asked in a worried voice as he walked to her side. 

Clarke pointed to the shapes in front of them.

"I know why this level wasn't powered. It's because all the bunker energy and computer performance are focused on something else."

Bellamy followed his gaze and swore silently into his beard. On the screens, the silhouettes moving around looked very familiar. They were their own. 

Bellamy and Clarke. But also Raven, Monty, Harper, Murphy, Emori, and Echo. All dressed in their radiation suits, busy turning Becca's little shuttle into a ship that could carry eight people and enough food and equipment for them to survive in space until the algae farm starts producing.

The two companions remained silent and motionless in front of the screen. Clarke broke the silence asking:

"Do you think Octavia's here?"

Bellamy shrugged and replied:

"She came to Earth before us, even though it was thirteen years earlier than us. She must have followed the same path we did and ended up here. The only question is when. If it was many years ago, this bunker was empty. She could've made her way out easily. 

"What do you think she's trying to do?"

He thinks for a few seconds before answering:

"To get back home?"

Clarke smiled at these words and nodded. If Octavia's quest was over -- and the last hours the youngest Blake had spent on Sanctum with them, and the way she had fought to do better led Clarke to believe that -- then yes, she would try to go back home more than anything else. 

And, Clarke was sure of it, Home was where Bellamy was.

"We should search this level for any signs that she’s been here," Bellamy added, deliberately turning his back to the screens to observe the empty room. "I'll take the upper floor, and you take this one?"

Clarke decided to ignore the fact that Bellamy would choose anything over being in the same room as the screens that showed some of his worst memories and nodded before saying :

"We have to be careful. I don't want to be here when Praimfaya hits."

She watched Bellamy's throat tighten as he swallowed, she knew what question filled his mind before he asked it, his voice deep:

"How much time do you think we have?"

On one of the screens, Raven could be seen in front of the countdown indicating the time left before Praimfaya hit them, but unfortunately, it was unreadable. 

"Okay," he sighed, following her gaze. "I'll explore this level for signs of Octavia while you try to find out how much time we have left."

The young man disappeared behind her, leaving her alone. She took her time looking at each of the terminals in front of her. She found where each of their friends were and looked for herself and Bellamy. 

He was the one she found first, of course. He was sitting on the couch in the office where they had set up their portable communications, talking on the radio. Digging through her memories, she tried to recall that moment, but froze as she watched her other-self opening the glass door and taking a few steps. She observed as this Bellamy stood up, then walked towards her in three long strides. He reached for her other self, and she stood there and watched as this young Clarke clung onto him. She sucked in a breath. Her heart broke in her chest. 

The features of their bodies were pixelated, but she could still feel how her trembling hands had tied behind Bellamy's back. How his fingers had wrapped around her braid and neck as he gently rocked her back and forth. How she had melted into his arms. Like she belonged there and nowhere else.

She had replayed her memories of that day so many times in her mind, that she knew them by heart, now. This embrace had given her the strength to keep going after she realized that she wouldn't say goodbye to her mother. It had given her the resilience to hold on when she was sure Abby's vision was going to come true and that she was going to die from radiation. And right now, this very embrace was about to be interrupted. 

Suddenly their two bodies separated on the screen, and her heart broke even more. Tears filled her eyes. She watched these younger Bellamy and Clarke go to their friends, traced the vague outline of Monty and Harper, who she still missed terribly, and closed her eyes as the sadness overtook her. 

She didn't need to hear Raven's words to remember that two hundred and five miles away, Polis was about to disappear under the radioactive wave. That gave them an hour and a half to find a sign of Octavia and reactivate the Anomaly Stone. 

She took a few seconds to pull herself together before turning around to call Bellamy and give him this information but froze when she saw him a few steps behind her. 

He was standing stock-still, his eyes locked on the same screen Clarke had been looking at a few moments earlier. He was clenching his fists so tight that she could almost see his whitened knuckles. She called his name to get him out of his stupor, but almost regretted it the moment his gaze lowered on hers. In his warm and deep brown eyes were shining the same emotions which resounded in her at that moment.

The air pulsed with the unsaid words that were still hovering between them, those they hadn't had time to face, and that had been weighing on their interactions since the moment Clarke had heard him shouting at his other self in the art supply store. She was trying to keep the words he had uttered out of her mind, trying to convince herself that this wasn't the time to dwell on them, that they would have plenty of time to discuss it later. But the moment they had both just seen on the screen was proof that often when it came to the two of them, fate didn't work in their favor.

She swallowed and braced herself, resolute. Although she didn't know what she was going to do, Clarke knew she had to do something before it was too late. Yet, as she took the first step in his direction, she witnessed the shifting in Bellamy's expression. A new, dark expression appeared on his face. He tore his eyes away from hers, cleared his throat, and said:

"An hour and a half, then?"

His voice was still tight with the sheer emotion to which he seemed to refuse to surrender, and Clarke found herself unable to respond. He seemed to take her silence as confirmation and added, in a more stable voice now:

"We don't have time to waste, then. I've found something, come and see."

Immediately, Clarke put the feelings that threatened to explode seconds earlier back in their box, smoothed the expression on her face to an impassive one, and followed Bellamy deeper into the bunker.

There, a door was waiting for them, locked by a coded system. 

"Try 4-7-8-1-5," Clarke suggested. 

Surprise appeared on Bellamy's face, but he chose to trust her and typed the numbers on the keypad. A sharp sound rang out and the door unlocked. Bellamy opened it and briefly inspected the new room before letting Clarke enter.

“It’s the Eligius code."

The space behind the heavy iron door revealed a small room resembling a locker room, in which several radiation suits hung on their hangers. Helmets, gloves, boots, and other equipment neatly lined up on many shelves. Becca had perfectly planned everything. On the other side of the room, a sign indicated an emergency exit over another heavily reinforced door, armed with the same mechanism as the previous one.

Unfortunately for them, it was obvious that this room hadn't been used for at least a hundred years. Everything had remained intact and untouched in the same way that Becca's lab had the very first-time Skaikru set foot in it. So, they still had no leads on Octavia.

"I don't think your sister was here for long, Bellamy. If she was trying to get back to Sanctum, she must have seen this place wasn't the one she was looking for and left right away. We'd better get out of here, too."

Despite the evident frustration on Bellamy's face, he still seemed to be weighing the pros and cons of leaving right away, which Clarke was struggling to understand. She wanted to put as much distance as possible between this day, Praimfaya, and them, and the sooner, the better. 

"Why are you hesitating?" she finally asked in the absence of an answer.

He ran a hand over his eyes, visibly exhausted, but also in conflict with himself.

"As long as we're here, maybe we could try to help," he tentatively suggested.

Clarke widened her eyes in shock.

"You know we can't just barge into the lab and offer our help-"

"That's not what I was thinking, Clarke."

"So what, then?"

He shrugged, and, for once, the young woman was unable to say what he was thinking.

"We can work in the shadows. We know Monty had to take off his gloves to take care of the oxygen generator. At this point, it's probably too late to get there before he did, but we can probably help him move ahead a little. He was completely out of it when we found him with Murphy."

Clarke considered that possibility for a few seconds before answering:

"Why risk it? We know how this is going to end anyway."

Her partner bit his lip, and Clarke frowned at this unfamiliar gesture.

"Well, we're here now. We've got all these suits and oxygen at our disposal, and you're a Nightblood, you don't even need those to go out--"

"Bellamy," Clarke interrupted him again. "I'm sorry, but I really don't want to be here when Praimfaya hits... Once was enough for me, I don't plan to go through that again."

He swallowed painfully before continuing:

"I know. It's only an hour. Please, Clarke. I can't relive this day and just do nothing. I need to help..."

That's when Clarke should have been suspicious, should have realized that he was hiding something, should have dug deeper into the reasons why he was so adamant about staying when there was no sign that his sister had ever been here. 

But she didn’t. She just nodded in agreement and allowed Bellamy's grateful smile to daze her for a few seconds. Questions, doubts, feelings, rest, all of this would await their return to Sanctum, once Octavia was found safe and sound. So, Clarke immediately focused on the task at hand: dressing and equipping her partner for him to face the radiation once outside the bunker. Once done, she entered the code on the keypad of the door leading outside and followed Bellamy down the stairs to the surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watching 4x13 scenes again and again and again to make sure I was accurate destroyed me, so I hope you enjoyed it! I can't wait to share the next parts! If everything goes smoothly, I think I'll be able to post the next chapter Wednesday ;)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Please, let me know what you think!
> 
> Love you all!


	5. River running free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT NOTE: I edited the previous chapter to add some info who might be important for the understanding of this story, so you might want to re-read it before this one ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys, sorry for the delay. 2020 is getting harder and harder, YAY, and I struggled to write lately. But I'm back! I have several chapters written so the updates will come quicker than before, or so I hope (because I still have to translate all of this haha)
> 
> So this one is a very short one but the next one is HUGE so brace yourself! 
> 
> Again, Thank you Lili for betaing this, ILY!

Up there, the cold, the darkness, and the wind surprised her. Clarke remembered that day very clearly, having reminisced about the smallest details so many times that she had long since lost count. There was one thing she didn't know, though, and that was how hard it was to run in the deep snow that now covered Becca's island. At night, on top of everything else.

Fortunately, her high boots and thick pants protected her from the cold. She was also grateful that Bellamy had given her Gabriel's long cardigan before putting on the radiation suit he was now wearing. She had put it over her jacket, far too thin for these temperatures, and tied it around her body. 

She tightened her grip on the flashlight, almost useless in the unreal reddish glow caused by Praimfaya's radiation, and directed it at the silhouette of her companion in front of her. She almost pitied Bellamy, who had to wander around in his awful and impractical anti-radiation suit. He quickened his pace, their boots squeaking into the powder, sinking several dozen inches and making their march complicated and tiring. 

"It will be easier once we get into the forest," Bellamy said, pointing to the woods. 

Her companion was moving forward with such fierce resolve, so fast that she could barely keep up. Once under the canopy of trees, it became easier to move forward. She was finally able to catch him and grabbed him by the sleeve to slow him down.

"Bellamy, please take it easy."

"You said it yourself, Clarke, we shouldn't linger," he replied, keeping the same rhythm.

She sighed, annoyed and tired, and lengthened her strides to follow him. After several minutes of heavy silence, she asked:

"Do you even know where to go?"

Bellamy turned to answer her just as screams started rising in the distance. They recognized Monty's voice right away and froze, horrified by the pain in his cries. Clarke didn't think it would be so hard to keep herself from running to him and rush to help him. It must have been at this point that he had taken off his gloves to dismantle the oxygen generator, and the young woman remembered all too well the pain of radiation on her bare skin. It was a miracle that she did not have any scars from the burns that had scarred her face for so long.

They waited for the voices to fall silent, still in the middle of the bushes, and then resumed their progress. They advanced a few more minutes and hid behind a grove of thickets when they saw the silhouettes of Murphy and Monty, carrying the object of their search as best they could, struggling under its heaviness. When one of the figures - probably Monty - stumbled and fell into the snow, they shuddered and watched helplessly as he struggled with nausea before fainting, as Murphy pleaded with him to fight, to get up, to go continue with him. When he finally sank unconscious, John began to lift the oxygen generator by himself. Then, Bellamy stepped into the snow in their direction. Clarke had to hold him down by force, putting one hand on his arm and grabbing the suit to prevent him from moving forward.

"What are you doing?" she whispered in panic.

His answer left her stunned.

"I'm gonna help Murphy."

"No. That wasn't the plan. The plan was to wait for Murphy to go, then help Monty get up and get some distance, and then get back to the bunker."

Standing in front of her, Bellamy frowned and refused to meet her eyes. He kept his gaze fixed on Murphy in front of them, who was moving slowly, so slowly, too slowly.

"I'm here now," he argued. "I'm wearing pretty much the same suit I wore that day, I can pretend I'm the Bellamy from the past and rescue them, I can-"

"You know that's impossible. How are you going to explain the fact that you grew a beard in the span of half an hour?"

He swept the argument aside with a flick of his wrist.

"It's dark. I'm keeping a low profile. I can carry the oxygen generator by myself while Murphy helps Monty. We can get back in time for me to-"

He paused, and the blood that was beating a second earlier at Clarke's eardrums in anguish and tension froze in her veins. She waited for him to continue, anxious and angry, but nothing happened.

"For you to what?"

The young man sighed and sharply withdrew his sleeve from Clarke's hand, which was still holding him.

"Get back in time to do what, Bellamy?"

A dreadful feeling seized her, as she realized that her partner was pursuing an agenda he was keeping her away from, all for a specific purpose she knew nothing about.

"Bellamy, wh-"

"Forget it, Clarke!" Bellamy exclaimed, losing his temper.

His reaction surprised her, but she didn't let herself be startled by his raging nerves. 

"We'll talk about this when we get to the bunker," she decided before resuming, more calmly, "Look, Murphy's gone now. Let's help Monty like we said we would, and get back to the bunker before this radioactive wave comes and destroys everything in its path. We don't even know what effect Praimfaya can have on the Anomaly Stone! Maybe you don't mind being stuck on this planet, but I do, so hurry up."

Finally, Bellamy sighed and nodded, shoulders down, and slumped. Together, they walked towards their friend and discovered a half-delusional Monty, which they tried their best to pick up and hold in a precarious balance between the two of them. The young man seemed barely aware of what was going on, but that didn't stop him from addressing them and asking Bellamy why he had a beard now, or how Clarke managed to withstand the radiation without a suit. 

Over Monty's shoulder, Bellamy caught Clarke's eye and said:

"On the Ark, Monty told me about a dream he had had the day we left. He said he saw me with a beard."

Clarke's heart stopped in her chest and then started again when Bellamy went on:

"Little did we know it wasn't a dream... It's oddly ironic that that's what made me want to stop shaving."

Clarke would have laughed if this whole situation hadn't been so freakishly awkward and awful. They moved forward clumsily for what seemed like several long minutes until Bellamy stopped and said:

"It's almost daylight. I think we've been past where we found Monty for a while now. We should head back."

Leave, go back, stay. Stay, leave, go back. Bellamy didn't seem to be able to keep his mind on one thing. He'd been frantic about leaving to help Monty and Murphy, then again when it came to helping Murphy, and there he was, wanting to get back to the bunker as soon as possible, the same bunker he'd desperately wanted to leave half an hour earlier.

"What's the emergency?" Clarke asked, unable to contain her annoyance any longer.

"We have to be back before sunrise."

She frowned but held her tongue. She stooped down to Monty's level to take one last look at his face through the visor of his suit. Of the six years she'd spent on Earth while Spacekru lived on the ring, she regretted many things. But among them, the years she hadn't had with Monty and Harper were one of her greatest losses. He was one of the 100, one of her best friends, and she hadn't even been able to enjoy his company until she was forced to say goodbye. 

So she took the opportunity of those few quiet seconds in the midst of the chaos to whisper tenderly:

"Thank you for everything, Monty. I miss you every day. May we meet again."

Finally, she got up, wiped away the tears from her cheeks, and signaled Bellamy to lead the way to the bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let a comment on this chapter if you're nervous about Bellamy's behavior. See you soon for the next chapter!


	6. Blossom on the tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your support everyone and thank you Lili for your amazing work on this!

By the time they reached the hidden entrance of the bunker, the one that would allow them to get to level seven unnoticed, daylight was beginning to break, and Clarke was sweating. Even more than at the beginning of their little adventure, she was struggling to keep up with Bellamy's frantic pace, whose long strides were getting faster and faster as the darkness gradually gave way to the light. None of Clarke's protests seemed to reach him, so she soon gave up complaining and quietly followed him as best she could through the snow and the cold. Her confusion and anger intensified as each step gained Bellamy a head start, drawing him further and further away from her. When she saw him open the hidden door in the distance and rush into the bunker without even waiting for her, she seethed. 

Two minutes later, she entered the bunker and carefully closed the door behind her before turning around, expecting to find him there, taking off his suit. However, the small locker room was empty. She took off the cardigan he had lent her, now feeling too hot between the bunker's ambient temperature and the effort of her half run so far, and walked quickly into the main room. Bellamy had taken off the top part of his suit and tied its sleeves around his waist. His arms were crossed tightly against his broad chest as he stared on the screens in front of him.

No matter how good he looked in that outfit and posture, with his defined muscles and brown curls rendered wild by the helmet he'd been wearing a few minutes earlier, she wasn't going to let that soften her anger.

"Bellamy!" she exploded. 

He didn't answer her, didn't even turn his back to indicate that he had heard her. His eyes stayed glued to the monitors. This-- this way of ignoring her was the last straw that finally broke her patience. She walked to him in sharp strides, ready to pour out her frustration on him, when her gaze suddenly caught the images playing on the screen. Then Clarke stopped in full swing.

Before their eyes, past Bellamy and Clarke were gazing at each other with tender, worried eyes. Sad. The camera that was capturing them couldn't have been far from where they had had this conversation, because Clarke could distinguish their two faces with astonishing clarity and precision, down to the smallest details. Such as the way the cold sweat was soaking her forehead and her blond hair held back by the awkward braid she had hastily tied that day. Or the way the emotion within Bellamy's brown eyes was threatening to escape when she touched his temple with her fingers, begging him to use his head as well as his big heart, begging him to go on living, even if she didn't survive.

Clarke knew the words that younger Bellamy was about to whisper to her at that very moment by heart. She had repeated them to herself over and over again throughout the 2200 days they had spent apart. She had whispered them to herself in the dead of night. She had remembered them every time her finger pressed the radio button and called out " _ Bellamy? _ " as she gazed up at the sky full of stars, searching for the one that shone brighter than the others and symbolized the fact that he must still be alive somewhere. Looking for proof that he would one day come home to her and Madi. 

Fortunately, the images of the past that were happening so close to them were not accompanied by sound, for she was sure she would not survive if she heard them again, pronounced with that soft, warm tone, though shattered by an emotion that seemed to gnaw at both versions of Bellamy at that moment, so much so that the expression of the present one reflected that of the past one.

Then, when this other Clarke removed her fingers from her companion's temple and he continued to look at her with the intense softness that characterized him so well, so soft and strong at the same time, that she saw him swallow slowly and open his mouth, Clarke's breath stopped of its own accord in her lungs. She knew, she was so sure she couldn't hear those next words, that she flinched when they still sounded just ahead of her. 

"I've got you for that."

Bellamy's voice was the same as in her memories. Deep. Soft. Broken. A whisper from the depths of her dreams. She didn't even try to stop the tears that suddenly rushed to her eyes when she pulled them from the young man on the screen and laid them on the man who had just spoken them out loud, on her Bellamy.

He remembered. Bellamy remembered the moment just as well as she did and couldn't forget them, and Clarke didn't know what to do with this information. Of course, she knew that the message she had wanted to convey that day had been heard, and the proof was that he had launched the shuttle without her on board just minutes after her speech. However, having this vague knowledge that they shared the memory of that moment, and seeing with her own eyes how much it was engraved in him, were two very different things. 

" Shit! Fuck!"

Bellamy's sudden screams a few steps ahead of her startled her out of her state of surprise. But she wasn't fast enough to stop him from smashing his fist into the wall nearest them, just enough to put her palm on his arm and slow him down.

"Bellamy... Calm down- Please talk to me," she begged, ignoring the way her voice broke on the words.

When he finally turned to her, his eyes gleaming with the same tears that glowed in hers, the young woman's heart stopped:

"I'm a coward, Clarke," he said vehemently.

Immediately she opened her mouth to contradict him, but he shook his head and continued:

"I was so sure, so sure I had five years ahead of me that I-"

His voice broke again and he ran a hand over his face, took a deep breath, and then slowly exhaled, trembling.

"I didn't say a word."

"Bellamy-"

"I've wanted to tell you so badly, and for so long... I almost did it once, on the beach, remember?"

Clarke nodded. Of course, she remembered. As with every key moment spent at Bellamy's side, it was etched in her memory, like a seal imprinted in her flesh with a branding iron. An iron that still burned her with regret and left a hideous imprint on her heart, a scar that still oozed and never quite healed, closing, then opening again, sometimes with resignation, sometimes with hope, but never giving her a moment's rest, tormenting her with its thousand and one "what ifs".

"Do you ever wonder what would've happened if you had let me finish that day? Or if I'd had the strength to finish my sentence, even after you didn't let me?"

This time, he didn't need Clarke to nod. He could read her answer in her bright eyes as clearly as it roared in his own heart. 

"Me, too," he said in response to her silent consent, because he, too, had spent six years playing the game of what-ifs and knew the torture of never winning. "I was a coward then, I'm a coward now, and I'm still a coward today."

Clarke didn't know how she found her voice trying to reassure him. Perhaps it was because it was second nature to her.

"Bellamy, you know that's not true-"

"Yes, it's true, Clarke. After that moment on the beach, I thought you didn't feel what I-"

A second of silence and time stopped as Clarke's whole being froze: her heart in her chest, her breath in her lungs, her thoughts in her mind, frozen in a single reflection. 

He can't, he isn't going to, he isn't going to say the words, not just express this love that they share for each other and that they have never acknowledged, this love so deep that it has run in their veins for centuries now, so pure and passionate that it has never and will never be anything platonic. He's not gonna say it, he's not gonna-

"I thought you didn't share my feelings..."

And as if that simple sentence had not just turned Clarke's whole world upside down, he continued:

"And even though it hurt me, it was okay. Because the world was about to fall apart, but I still got you despite that. But then-" he swallowed, and exhaled, trembling, "Then you closed the bunker door. Octavia was outside, but I was inside, and the human race was safe. I keep telling myself that we would have survived, you know? Just Skaikru in that damn bunker. No Bloodreina, no fighting pit… Maybe we wouldn't even have experienced the dark year they had to go through."

Bellamy could hardly breathe at the somber thought that humanity might have been better off if the decision had remained in Clarke's hands that day. If Octavia and the thousand Grounders waiting at the bunker door had simply stayed there. 

"That's when I realized that you loved me as much as I loved you," he continued softly, his voice like a whisper. "Because when it came down to a choice between the survival of all mankind or mine, you chose me. And I know it's crazy to think like that, and maybe a little fucked up, but it was the first thing that hit me when you put the gun down when I could finally breathe normally after Octavia entered the bunker. I saw you sacrifice Finn to win the peace. I know you chose to return to Arkadia even though Lexa offered you her heart with the option to stay at Polis. I saw you refuse to give what she wanted to Alie when it could have saved your mother, but-- You couldn't kill me. You could have shot me, hurt me enough to stop me, but you didn't because you knew how bad it would hurt me. That's when I knew..."

All Clarke could do at that moment was count the beats of her heart, steady her breathing, keep her eyes in Bellamy's, and listen to one of the longest speeches she ever heard from him, perhaps even longer than that time he had tried to convince the delinquents to hold camp near the ship and fight the Grounders, an eternity earlier.

Bellamy turned to the screens again, where their silhouettes now blended with those of their friends as Raven explained to them why having the shuttle's communications down was so serious and whispered again:

"I was so sure I had five years, so sure..."

Clarke watched him shake his head, frustrated, almost desperate, noting the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers closed and clenched into determined fists. The weight of what the young man had just confessed to her was so heavy on the young woman's shoulders now, that she felt unable to move or think as if this new knowledge was clouding her mind. Yet the anxiety continued to overwhelm her as the Anomaly Stone kept gently levitating in a corner of the room, inviting them to continue on their way and making Clarke wonder why they hadn't left yet. 

She had to say something, do something, anything to make Bellamy understand that this was neither the time nor the place to make such a speech, not when Praimfaya was coming closer and closer, ever more threatening. There was a reason she hadn't said anything that day either.

She cleared her throat to get her companion's attention and carefully chose her words, in what she thought was a harmless way to bring him back to the present. Because the present was them, here and now. What was happening right before their eyes on the monitors in Becca's lab was--

"That was a long time ago, Bellamy."

"Was it? Because to me, it feels like it's happening today," he replied, pointing to the screen on which Raven, Bellamy, and Clarke were no longer visible.

Suddenly it was as if their absence on the monitors had triggered something in him as if a lever had been lowered. The tension suddenly left his shoulders, his hands relaxed, and his voice stabilized as he made his decision:

"I've got to do something."

He stepped once, then twice, in the direction of the door through which they had just come in a few minutes before.

"Bellamy, wait!" Clarke panicked at the new displayed resolution. "What are you doing?"

She grabbed him by the arm and he stopped dead in his tracks, turning and plunging his brown eyes into hers, only, instead of finding the warmth, calm, and steadiness to which she was so used to, all she discovered was sheer terror, uncontrollable emotion, a devastating frenzy.

"I have to do something," he cried again, unable to put his thoughts in order, but desperate to act. "I can't leave you on a burning planet all alone for six years, not again!"

His words and the despair that filled them tore her to pieces inside, but she stood up straight and still, and didn't loosen the grip of her fingers on Bellamy's sleeve when she replied:

"You already have! And that was the only choice! You listened to your head and not your heart. You saved our friends. You- you saved yourself-"

"It's not true and you know it," he spat furiously, then stated his truth on Clarke. "There isn't a minute in those first few months on the ring that I didn't wish I'd stayed here with you. I was dead inside. The only time I felt alive was when I came back to Earth and found you were still alive. And even then, all I could feel was guilt."

This time the young woman let go of his sleeve, overwhelmed by the intensity of his feelings and he took advantage of her jolt to take a few more steps until Clarke suddenly regained composure.

"Bellamy, stop, please," she begged as she chased him. "What exactly are you going to do? Where are you going?"

"I don't know, okay. I- I have to save you, that's all that matters. I can’t lose you again. Maybe if I'm there with you, you can make it back to the shuttle in time for us to take off. I'll move the damn dish myself if I have to."

Clarke's heart missed a beat at the thought that this younger version of herself might leave the planet before Praimfaya arrived. For days and weeks, she had played that possibility in her mind, had dreamt of the sweet fantasy of returning in time for their departure, had imagined what would have happened if she had been up there with them, up there with Bellamy. 

The adrenaline suddenly coursed through her veins and in one leap she stood between the young man and the door, blocking his way.

"You can't," she announced firmly, placing a hand on his chest to stop him from moving forward, gently pushing him back.

Under his hand, she felt his heart drumming as fast as hers was beating at her eardrums. His dark eyes became glacial.

"Get out of my way, Clarke."

"I can't let you do this. Just- think about it- Use your head, Bellamy."

"I'm done using my head!" he shouted suddenly, and Clarke gasped, but didn't move an inch. "It is not a coincidence that the anomaly brought me here, today, at this very moment."

"I'm not dead!" she countered, unable to understand the logic that drove her companion. "I survived, and I'm here with you now! We're not here for me, we're here to look for your sister, Bellamy. We have to get back to the portal and leave. Now."

"No way."

"Bellamy-"

"You were dead to me, Clarke. For 2200 days, you were dead to me. I won't let you die, not again. For once, I'm going to listen to what my heart tells me to do, so now move."

Even though she could see in his eyes how serious and determined he was, it was nothing compared to the resolution that was urging Clarke at that moment. 

"I can't let you do this, I'm sorry, Bellamy," she said as she took a few steps back and carefully drew her handgun.

Facing the weapon, Bellamy didn't even seem surprised. He watched Clarke slowly pull it out of its holster as she continued to step back, waited for her to point it at him, and ended up frowning when she didn't and kept the barrel pointed at the floor.

"Again, really?" he asked an irony in the voice that didn't go unnoticed in Clarke's ears. "You're kidding me, right? Do you think I believe you're capable of shooting me?" he said next, his voice full of bitterness.

"I would never do such a thing. This is not for you."

When she suddenly turned around and aimed at the emergency door lock, Bellamy realized one second too late her intention. His "no!" was covered by the sound of the gun's detonation, and never more than at that moment did the young man regret teaching Clarke to shoot with such precision. 

The system was now unusable, and when he rushed to the armored door and tried to push it down with his shoulder, it did not give up an inch. He turned to Clarke, his face darkened and his eyes furious, only to find her shaking, her eyes fogged with unshed tears.

"Why did you do that?" he murmured, his voice broken, unable to let his anger flow out when she looked so vulnerable.

"I can't let you risk your life, I'm sorry. I just-"

"It was my choice to make," he interrupted her, dry and brittle.

“Yeah? And what about Madi's life?" she asked, tears now streaming down her cheeks.

All the wrath and resentment faded from Bellamy's face as Clarke's words reached their goal and the young man finally remembered that it wasn't just Clarke's life at stake.

"I can't let you risk your life, let alone if by doing so you endanger Madi's," she stammered, her breath taken away by the sobs. "You're all the family I have left. You're both too important to me. I can't, I'm sorry, I-"

When Bellamy's powerful arms surrounded her, she froze for a second before letting herself lean into his chest, letting her weight rest completely on the man, letting him support her fully, both physically and emotionally. Until she realized that the wet feeling under her cheek was due to her tears and that the whispers she heard beyond her sobs were coming from her companion who was apologizing again and again and trying to calm her down gently. 

She sniffed before she gently released herself, without loosening the embrace of her arms around Bellamy, raised her eyes to his. Softly, he came to cup her face in his hands and wiped with his thumb the tears that silently flowed from her blue eyes.

"I'm sorry," she whispered before he could open his mouth to apologize again, but he still said:

"It's me who's sorry."

"Do you understand now? Why we can't change things with impunity? We don't hold all the cards. Too much depends on us."

"We don't even know what effect what we're doing has on our present, Clarke. Maybe it won't make a difference. Maybe it's just another universe, another dimension, and what we cause won't have any consequences."

"If there's one thing I know," said the young woman. "It's that I care about Madi, whatever version of her exists in any universe. She needs me."

At these words, he backed away slightly and frowned, before removing his hands from Clarke's face and placing them on her shoulders.

"Just as much as I care about you, Clarke," he tried again to justify himself. "I need you, too. "You can't expect me to stand by and be indifferent when faced with this kind of thing. It's too much for me, I-"

His brown eyes filled with tears and he looked up to keep them from falling. Immediately, the need to comfort him overwhelmed the young woman.

"Hey, shh, look at me."

She waited for his gaze to catch hers again before saying:

"I understand, okay. This is hard for me too, Bellamy. But that's in the past. They're just memories. And in the end, it didn't end too badly for us, did it? I survived, I found Madi, we both found a family, and you came home. All's well that ends well."

Clarke's lips pursed into an ironic smile Bellamy found himself unable to match. She looked up at the screens behind his back and paled slightly. When he tried to turn to look, she stopped him.

"Don't look, okay. Just trust me?"

Bellamy nodded and let the young woman grab his hand and take the few steps that separated them from the Anomaly Stone and pull him behind her. He watched her as she pressed the symbols that activated the gate. Just before she tapped the last of them-- before she put her finger on the perfect O of the Octonion, she looked at him and asked in a low voice :

"Together?"

At that moment, the floor and the walls of the laboratory shook slightly, the light around them flickered several times, and as they regained their balance, Bellamy couldn't prevent his gaze from settling on the control screens. On one of them, the rocket that was taking Spacekru to the Ark was slowly taking off in a burst of flames and smoke. His heart broke in his chest, for the thousandth time since the beginning of his short life, but perhaps for the first time too many.

"Bellamy-"

Before Clarke could say another word or make another move, he pulled her against him in a swift motion. One of his arms wrapped around her waist while his other hand settled on her cheek and his lips crashed against hers with a force that would have thrown the young woman off balance if he hadn't held her so tightly against him. Surprised at first, she stood still. Then, slowly, she came to lock her own hands around the nape of her companion's neck and pulled him against her before answering his touch. Her delicate mouth danced for a few seconds on his and Bellamy let their breaths mingle as Clarke's scent completely overwhelmed him. Then the young woman's lips opened and a sigh escaped from them before Bellamy tilted her face slightly to deepen their kiss, which suddenly became more passionate as the reality of what was finally happening was catching up with them both. He wrapped his arms further around her body as if by hugging her tighter, she could have fused into his whole being, in the same way that she had fused into his heart and soul since so many years ago. When she ran one hand through his brown curls, and he felt her other hand grasping the front of his shirt, he couldn't hold back either the thrill of pleasure, or the desire that overwhelmed him, or his immediate and devastating need for more. More of her taste on his lips, more of her skin against his, more of her hands on his body, more sighs against his mouth, more, more, more... In his arms, Clarke seemed to be in tune with his thoughts and became more daring, more responsive, more demanding as well. 

It was this unbearable longing, this ardent and destructive passion, ready to wipe out every thought and the little sanity he had left, that brought Bellamy to a sudden stop. Nevertheless, he did not move away, letting his now burning lips rest a few inches from hers, almost letting them touch when he whispered:

"I love you."

He wished he could have gotten a little further away from her to see the light in her blue eyes when she answered, her voice shaking:

"I love you too."

He didn't let the sweetness of this long-awaited revelation - for centuries, it seemed - weaken his resolve. 

"I'm sorry," he said.

This time he could see the astonishment in Clarke's eyes as he suddenly broke away from her, then read the sense of betrayal that shattered her as he applied the hand he still held in the palm of his own to the final symbol of the Anomaly Stone.

"Bellamy-" she had time to scream before he pushed her forcefully into the vortex that opened before them. 

He didn't keep his eyes open to watch her disappear into the emerald mist of the portal, he walked away for fear of being swallowed by the Anomaly too, which was the last thing he wanted at that moment. When the sound of the vortex finally subsided, he let his gaze caress the now-deactivated Stone, and then took a trembling breath that echoed through the large, empty room of Becca's laboratory. 

Bellamy didn't allow himself to whisper the "May we meet again" that was hovering on his lips, the same lips that a second earlier had kissed Clarke's. He didn't allow himself to collapse when he felt his legs wobble beneath him. He refrained from letting the tears run, reveling in the pain that was suffocating him now that they were choking him under the weight of the emotion. He put his anti-radiation suit back on and promised himself that one day he would ask her for forgiveness, that one day he would find her again, that one day he would kiss her lips again and whisper to her how much he loved her.

One day...

Here and now, he still had many things to do. Finding a new way out of this floor, for starters, and then getting out of the bunker and walking through the snow to brave Praimfaya to find Clarke. Because as she had said earlier, there wasn't a single version of her in any universe or dimension that he wouldn't risk his life to save hers. There wasn't a single universe or dimension where he wouldn't have given up everything to help and save her.

There wasn't a single universe or dimension where he wasn't madly in love with Clarke Griffin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can yell at me in the comment section, or on twitter where you can find me there @onlyzouzou  
> Thank you so much for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Even if reading (like writing) is a good escape from reality, don't forget to support #BlackLivesMatters. Speak out, protest, donate if you can, educate those in need, and sign petitions... 
> 
> https://www.purewow.com/news/petitions-black-lives-matter
> 
> In the meantime, thank you very much for reading, don't hesitate to leave me a comment to tell me what you thought! See you as soon as possible for the next update!
> 
> Zou


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